Sunday, September 30, 2007

Finally passing on my award (still think that's the coolest thing ever). It goes to Her Bad Mother, who has some very deep and exciting things going on and is reflecting away honorably. Congratulations!

Saturday, September 22, 2007

So I took a week or so off from blogging. Partly because I wasn't sure anyone was reading, and that's cool, but I figured that it would not be a big deal. And then, I check back in, and (it bears mentioning again) an award! What a nice, nice thing.

But mostly the reason for my hiatus was because it was my wedding anniversary, and we were celebrating. I'm not really all into "dates" and everything. J gets me caramels at Valentines Day and that's about enough for me (yum). We really aren't the flowers and perfume types. But we did go to dinner, and had a great time. And, oh my, do I love him.

He is in the middle of changing jobs. And you know how that's one of those life things that just saying it doesn't do justice to how hard it is. "I was in a bad relationship." "I had trouble breastfeeding." "We had trouble getting pregnant." Etc. I should say that J is a recovering child prodigy-type. Smartest kid in small town, college at 16, that kind of thing. But then you grow up, and there are people around as smart as you, and even though that's what you wanted it can be hard. And no one stops in their tracks and FAWNS at a smart adult like they do a smart child. And sometimes, so I hear, these babies can sort of get the short end of the stick on the whole socialization thing.

And this isn't to say that J has no social skills, because he does. But (never say but, this word should be eliminated from the English language). And. He thinks technology should be beautiful, and can be an expression of art. And that just because everyone does it the way everyone else does, doesn't make it right. And it means he is used to being the sole voice of his type in the crowd. To his vision not being understood. And the whole socialization thing means he's kind of immune to the difficulty of that position, I think [I'm guilty of it myself, the great-you-can-do-all-this-math-how-about-taking-the-garbage-out variety]. So he was in this job, at a technology company in Seattle that yall have heard of. And when he started he thought they were all cutting edge and would really use him for his gifts, that he could make a difference. Which he wants so, so bad to do and feels it is his calling. Only to discover that they have become A Large Organization with tons of red tape and layers and layers of managers. And it ended up where he was just supposed to be a code monkey implementing other people's poorly conceived or politically motivated projects.

And you know, he had this crappy job, while I was in school, while I was pregnant, having a baby, going crazy because of breastfeeding problems. Doing that provider thing that I'm sure I never thanked him enough for. Because how can you? Really. But he did it. And I didn't even know how bad it was for him, because he was so busy trying to fix it, and take care of me and baby.

But anyway, so then he gets connected to this senior technology guy. Someone yall have also heard of just from the tabloids. Made it big back in the early days of personal computers and now is worth billions. And he has a small company that he funds himself because he believes in big ideas. And he offered J a job on our anniversary. A nice offer. He didn't even have a job opening, he just offered J a job because he believed in J and his vision and passion. I am so happy for J and so proud of him, for persevering through crappy-fit job, and finding Mr, Senior Guy, for impressing him, for creating a job.

I have learned a much needed lesson about believing in your partner. I tend to need some work with the on-the-ground part of that part of marriage (see take-out-garbage reference above). I have certainly had the "why can't I just have a normal husband" thoughts, wondered when, even if sometimes, all these big ideas were going to come to fruition. And now I can see that they can, and they probably will, someday. If I believe in him, just that, no strings, that would be a great accomplishment of my life.

Happy anniversary, my love. I'm proud that our bubba has you for his daddy.

Hey, check me out! An award! And from someone whose writing and thoughts I respect. How awesome. Thank you, thank you, childlife. I will pass along the honor. But really I should just award it right back, can I do that?

Monday, September 10, 2007

Do we all do this? Try to give our children all the good things we got, plus more? It's surprising how often I think about this, because it's really dumb. But I read books to H about farm animals (the cow says moo, etc) and I realize that this is part of my childhood that I can't pass on. I grew up in rural Pennsylvania, and we weren't on a farm but we were surrounded by them. I can't remember ever not knowing what a cow was. They were everywhere, on every drive to town. I even love the smell of their poop in the air. We had friends who raised goats, and went to feed the babies every spring. We had horses, and geese...And now? I have to take H to a petting zoo if I want him to know about the cow that says moo. And it kinda really bothers me. I mean, a big rambling house, woods to play in, tractor rides from the neighbors, fresh corn right from the fields in summer, playing tag with a big elm tree for home base, chasing fireflies, 10 mile drive to the grocery store. That is all me, and it's not H. He is a tiny city house, ice cream truck, coffee shops, city buses, walking to the fireworks on July 4. Recycling. Pizza delivery. Zoo in the neighborhood (alleged home of angst-producing petting zoo in addition to lions and tigers and such). Will all my history die with me? Those are my memories, and for some reason it seems natural that H should share them, since he is so so such a part of me. But he's not, not that part. And taking him to a petting zoo to see the cow that says moo, for some reason it brings it all up, and I can't bring myself to do it yet.

Meanwhile, one of the mothers in my mother's group is expecting another bubba, the first in our group. Another thing to think about.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

I think H heard his doctor say that teething "normally" begins any time between 3 and 9 months. And then he was all like, oops, I'm almost nine months, better grow some teeth. At eight months and three and a half weeks, bam! Then a day off to recover. Next day, bam! Day after, Bam BAM, TWO! Then, bam, then today? Bam again and I have a baby with six teeth. I hardly recognize him.

Know what a nerd I am? I am giving a talk on Oct 3 for my department seminar on my study on melanoma prevention. Which actually has nothing to do with anything new about melanoma prevention because skin cancer is one of the most straightforward and cheapest cancers to prevent. But I digress. Why My Dissertation Is Stupid is like a whole nother blog. But anyway I did a whole photo shoot today so I could get a shot of H practicing good sun protection behaviors to put into my talk. Not because I have any altruistic feelings about people imitating me and my wonderful mother-ness about sun protection but really because I want to show off pictures of my bubba. And I figure I can mask blatant baby bragging to a bunch of stuffy academics by saying, ha ha, check out his wide-brimmed hat, and long sleeves, and he's in the SHADE. Never mind the naked baby shots I'm NOT going to put into my talk that show his farmer's tan. Ha.

And look, he points now too. Sometimes he even points *at* something. Even more advanced, sometimes he points at something he actually wants. A genius? I rather think so.

And you know what I just noticed? There's a car in the background (not ours). So his children can look at this and be all, that's so turn of the century. I have a picture of my mother as a toddler and the best part about it is the 1940s car in the background.